Mirror Image
by Tweeter
Summary: Tony is personally affected by a case. COMPLETE. The denouement.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: _Standard disclaimers apply, NCIS is owned by other people, no copyright infringement is intended, no money is being made.

**A/N:** Many thanks go to my beta Rinne, for her patience; ZivaFan and ResearchGeek for their suggestions

**Chapter One**

For the past several months, young women had been turning up murdered in the northeast part of the country. The FBI had been searching for the killer without success. The case that brought NCIS into the investigation was the murder of a 21-year-old petty officer. She had just joined the Navy and was stationed at Naval Air Station, Oceana, as an electronics technician. Petty Officer Victoria Elkins and some other new recruits had been at a weekend technical seminar at a hotel in DC. They had gone out for drinks and the petty officer had left the club with a man she met. Her roommate reported her missing after she failed to return for the next morning's session. Her body was found, two days later, killed in the same manner as the other victims.

Because the case had now become a joint investigation with NCIS, Special Agent Tobias Fornell was brought in to brief the team on what the FBI had already gathered.

Seven women had been murdered in a similar manner. All the victims were in their early to mid-twenties; all had gone out partying with their friends, but left the group some time during the evening. The FBI had found witnesses in five of the cases. Each of those witnesses said that the victims were approached by a single man. The women drank, danced, and then left the club with the man. The description in each case was similar - tall, dark hair, handsome and very charming.

"The perp seems to target younger, inexperienced women," Fornell said. "He either gets them drunk or takes advantage of their inebriated condition, separates them from their group of friends, gets them out of the club, then kills them."

"Were they sexually assaulted?" asked Ziva.

"No," replied Fornell, "there's no sign of any sexual activity on the victims. They're simply taken out and strangled, their bodies are then dumped. The killer takes a trophy: the victim's panties."

Gibbs put his cup of coffee down and stared thoughtfully at the pictures of the seven young women. "Any sign of a struggle: skin under fingernails, scratches?"

"Not so far, Gibbs." Fornell ran his hand over his face. "We've been severely lacking in any hard evidence. This guy is good. He's smart and he knows how to hide his tracks. He's also starting to get cocky; he calls and leaves a message on the tip line. I expect we'll get another one about your petty officer."

"You think he's still in the area?" asked Tony.

"Don't know," replied Fornell. "Right now we're working on that assumption. He tends to make multiple kills in a location, then moves on. So far, this is the first in this area."

Ziva stated the obvious, "We need to find him before he finds another victim."

Gibbs looked at her. "Ya think, David? Fornell, a fresh pair of eyes might be able to help, can you get the files on the other cases to McGee? McGee, I want you to look them over, see if anything jumps out at you. Tony, you and Ziva go and talk to the petty officer's roommate. Find out who she partied with and see if they can identify the guy she left with. See if the bar they were at had any security cameras and get the tape to Abby."

"Right, Boss." The agents set off on their assigned tasks.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Gibbs strode back into the squad room. Tony and Ziva had returned and were working at their desks.

"Report, DiNozzo," barked Gibbs.

Tony got up from his chair and walked over to his boss' desk.

"Petty Officer Elkins was fresh off the farm, according to her roommate. She had never been away from home before she joined the Navy. Her roommate said she was really sweet, very innocent and trusting. She was gullible, but some of the older recruits sort of adopted her and treated her like a baby sister, protecting her."

"They didn't protect her very well that night, though," interjected Ziva.

"That's because her main 'big brother' wasn't with them that night," replied Tony. "Petty Officer Edward Kirkland was one of the recruits who looked after her. He wasn't at the training, so he wasn't there to go drinking with the group. I talked to him, while Ziva was talking to some of the other officers, and he was really broken up about the murder. I'd watch out for him, if he gets any idea of who the killer is, he'll go after him."

"Yeah, well, he better not figure out who the killer is before we do or I'll fire your asses and hire his," growled Gibbs.

"Yes, Boss," answered Tony. "So anyway, I talked to the folks Petty Officer Elkins went drinking with, they were still pretty upset. They all gave the same description of the man she left with: tall, about 6' 3", dark hair, medium build, good-looking, smooth talker."

"Sounds like you," interrupted Ziva.

"You think I'm good-looking and a smooth talker?" Tony asked, breaking into a smile. "Ow. Sorry, Boss."

"Was there a security camera at the bar?"

"As luck would have it," replied Tony, "there was. They were at one of the more upscale hotel bars. I had the tape sent down to Abby's lab."

"Good. McGee, did you find anything interesting in the other cases?"

"Nothing that Fornell didn't already tell us, Boss, but there was this." McGee rose from his desk and clicked the remote to bring up a picture on the plasma screen.

"What is it?"

"One of the witnesses had pictures from the night her friend disappeared. She says that she's pretty sure the guy in the back of this picture is the man the victim left with."

The picture on the plasma screen was fuzzy, having been enlarged by the FBI lab in an effort to make out the features of the shadowy man in the background. Unfortunately, it only confirmed the general description given by the witnesses; none of the facial features were clear enough to make out.

"Send that down to Abby, see if she can work some magic on it."

"Yes, Boss."

"You know, Tony, if I didn't know better, I'd say that was you in that picture." Ziva stared thoughtfully at the plasma screen.

Tony cocked his head and squinted up at the screen. "You think so?"

"Yes, I do," she replied. "And he sounds a lot like you, especially the part about picking up the younger women."

"Just because I date younger women does not mean I go seeking them out," protested Tony. "They just seem to gravitate toward me."

"They're drawn to you?"

"Yes, they're drawn to me."

"Like matter being pulled into a black hole?" McGee joined the conversation.

"Who asked you, Probie?" Tony scowled.

"Come on, Tony," continued Ziva. "You like your women young, you like to impress them with your experience and je ne se quois. When they want something more than 'fun', you dump them."

"I don't just dump them." Tony was starting to get angry. "I move on, and they move on. I show them a good time, have a little fun…"

Ziva interrupted, "Show the innocent young women the ways of the world?"

"Enough of this," Gibbs stopped the conversation. "McGee, go down and help Abby with the video from the bar and the picture. Ziva, if you're finished painting Tony as a pedophile, maybe you can transcribe the interviews the two of you had with the witnesses. Tony, you're with me." Gibbs glared at Ziva before he headed toward the elevator. Tony grabbed his pack and ran after his boss.

Tony was quiet on the elevator ride down to the parking garage.

"Don't let her get to you, DiNozzo," warned Gibbs. "She knows your buttons and she'll push them if she has a chance. Don't give her one."

"She's got a point, Boss," Tony said, thoughtfully. "This guy does sound a lot like me."

"No, Tony, he doesn't. This guy is a cold-blooded, ruthless killer," Gibbs replied. "He stalks his victims, picks the weaker, younger ones of the pack, separates them and kills them. He's a predator. You're not."

"But the description, the young women…"

"So you're both handsome, charming men who like young women. You're commitment-phobic; younger women usually don't want commitment yet, they're not listening to their biological clocks, so you date younger women. The perp goes for them because they don't know enough to be careful, don't know how to protect themselves."

Tony looked doubtful, but said, "Okay, Boss." The elevator doors opened and they headed for the car. "Where are we going?"

"To Fornell's office, to check out some more information he has."

"You think I'm handsome and charming? Ow…"

_**To be continued…**_


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: _Standard disclaimers apply, NCIS is owned by other people, no copyright infringement is intended, no money is being made.

**A/N:** Many thanks go to my beta Rinne, for her patience; ZivaFan and ResearchGeek for their suggestions

Chapter Two 

Gibbs and DiNozzo were at FBI Headquarters when Gibbs got a call. He listened tersely for a moment, then said, "We'll meet you at the scene."

"We've got another one," he said, in answer to Tony's and Fornell's questioning looks. "Let's go." Tony followed Gibbs out the door, with Fornell close behind.

The petty officer was young, pretty, and appeared to be barely into her twenties. She had curly red hair, fair skin and a sprinkle of freckles across her nose. Her eyes were beautiful, large pools of green, framed with long lashes. DiNozzo could imagine them sparkling with laughter. Instead, they were dull and clouded, staring blankly at nothing. The young woman's body had been found in a wooded area, covered by a few leaves. There appeared to have been no effort to conceal the corpse.

"Boss, look." Tony was crouched down next to the body. Gibbs joined him and looked at what the younger agent was pointing out.

"She's wearing a wedding ring," observed Gibbs.

"Do you think the killer's branched out?" Tony asked.

"I hope not."

Officer Ziva David and Special Agent Timothy McGee were collecting evidence from the scene, while Tony took photographs of the body and the overall scene and any evidence that the other two agents uncovered.

Gibbs walked over to Doctor Donald Mallard who was crouched next to the young woman's body. "Time of death, Ducky?" he asked.

Sitting back on his heels, Ducky sighed. "From the liver temperature, I'd estimate this young lady has been dead for no more than 24 hours," he said. "Jimmy, let's get her home to see what ended this poor girl's life."

The ME and his assistant carefully loaded the young woman's corpse into the van and headed back to headquarters.

* * *

Abby Sciuto was bouncing around her lab, processing evidence from the latest murder that had been brought down to her by Agent DiNozzo. Tony sat on a stool, off to the side, watching the young lab technician, but not really seeing her. His eyes swept the room lazily, thoughts whirling around in his mind.

"What's the matter, Tony?" asked Abby, her brow furrowed with concern.

"Does our perp sound familiar, Abs?" Tony sat, staring at nothing in particular.

"You mean like someone coming back for revenge, or someone from another case?"

Tony shook his head. "No, I mean does the profile and description we have on this guy sound like anyone we know?"

Abby's confusion was growing. "What are you talking about, Tony? Are you okay?"

The young agent switched his gaze to Abby. "Think about it, Abby. The witnesses said he's in his early to mid-thirties, tall, dark haired, handsome; he's charming and seems to have a way with the ladies; he comes to a bar or club alone, but never leaves alone; he seems to favor younger, less-experienced women. Who does that sound like to you?"

"He's not you, Tony."

"No, really Abby," argued Tony, "except for the women ending up dead, this guy has my dating habits."

"So? That's a pretty important distinction, you know, the not ending up dead part."

"Yeah, but really, how different am I? I mean, look at how easy it was for Chip to frame me for murder. If you hadn't been so persistent and found his sweat on the carpet fiber, I would be in prison right now."

"You would never kill someone and dismember their body, Tony," Abby argued. "You're one of the good guys."

Tony was silent for a moment, before finally saying, "You know, Abs, I look at this case, at the victims and the promise of their lives cut off so early. I look at the description of our suspect, read his MO, and I think, 'That could be me'."

"What is it about me that makes me not go that extra, extreme step? What's the difference between the suspect and me? _Is_ there a difference, or am I one or two steps away from becoming as callous as he is?"

For the first time in a long time, Abby was at a loss for words. She'd never seen Tony like this, so brooding and introspective. Tony was always joking around and laughing, seemingly in love with life. She had no idea he could be so dark and cynical. This was a side of him that scared her, it was so foreign.

Tony blinked at Abby, as if just realizing she was in the room with him. He shook himself and gave her a grin that didn't quite make it to his eyes. Hopping down from the stool, he gave her a quick, tight hug.

"I better get back to the squad room," he said, releasing her. Seeing her concerned frown, he gave her a quick peck on the cheek and said, "Don't worry, Abs, I'm okay. Just thinking, and you know how dangerous that can be with me." Winking, the agent turned and left the lab, leaving Abby standing alone. Sighing, she picked up the phone and dialed a number.

* * *

"You don't think I mean anything bad when I hassle you, do you, Probie?" Tony's expression was genuinely concerned, stopping McGee from giving a sarcastic reply.

"No, Tony, I don't," he said. "I know you're just playing around and that there's nothing malicious to it."

Tony nodded, but still appeared worried. "I think you're shaping up to be a great agent, you know that, don't you?"

McGee smiled. "Yeah, Tony, I think I get that, at least most of the time. I get annoyed when you pull rank, but at least you're not just picking on me."

"I'll stop that," Tony said solemnly. "It's a carryover from my fraternity days. We haze people on the police force, too; it's not right..."

"God, Tony," McGee interjected. "I don't know what I'd do if you stopped giving me a hard time. I'll be honest, most of the time I really enjoy the back-and-forth sparring we do. You're a fun guy, Tony, don't get all serious on me."

Tony looked pleased. "You think I'm fun?"

McGee looked around and, seeing no one nearby, he leaned toward Tony. "If you ever tell anyone, I will deny saying that, and unless you've got a hidden tape recorder on you, you can't prove I ever did," he said in a low voice.

"I heard you," Gibbs rounded the corner, "and I'll keep that in mind the next time you start whining about one of DiNozzo's pranks."

"I don't whine," whined McGee. "I don't suppose you heard Tony telling me I'm becoming a good agent, did you?"

"Nope." Gibbs sat down at his desk and began going through his e-mail, smiling at the disgruntled huff coming from the young agent.

The team fell silent, each member going over the evidence of the murders.

"This isn't right, Boss," Tony said.

"What's wrong?"

"The victim's older than the others. She looks young, but she's definitely older and more experienced. Plus, she's still wearing her wedding ring, so the killer couldn't have mistaken her for a single woman."

"She could have told him she was wearing the ring to scare off the creeps. She could have just acted naïve," argued Ziva.

"There's also the fact that she was killed somewhere other than the dump site," countered Tony. "Plus, she's not missing her underwear. The MO's off just enough to make it feel wrong."

"But it matches just enough to throw us off the track," continued Gibbs.

Tony nodded. "It has the details that were published in the paper and leaked from the police reports, but not the stuff that was kept secret by the FBI. I think this is a copycat."

Gibbs nodded in agreement. "We're now looking for two killers. We work this one alone. Tony, you head up this investigation. You and McGee will work on Petty Officer Turner's murder, Ziva and I'll work with Fornell on the Elkins murder."

"Boss, I think I may be able to get into the head of the Elkins killer," argued Tony.

Gibbs shook his head. "You're not separating yourself from that case enough, DiNozzo. You're identifying too much with the perp."

"Yes, and maybe I can work out his next move."

"No, DiNozzo," interrupted Gibbs. "You're starting to doubt yourself."

"Abby talked to you," accused Tony.

"Yeah, she did," agreed Gibbs, "and I've come to a few conclusions on my own. And I've concluded that you're going to work on Petty Officer Turner's case."

Tony started to argue some more, but the glare Gibbs gave him made him close his mouth and nod.

**_To be continued…_**


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: _Standard disclaimers apply, NCIS is owned by other people, no copyright infringement is intended, no money is being made.

**A/N:** Many thanks go to my beta Rinne, for her patience; ZivaFan and ResearchGeek for their suggestions

**Chapter Three**

Petty Officer Turner and her husband, Lieutenant Wayne Turner, lived in a modest house on the base. The petty officer's sister was staying at the house with the couple's 4-year-old daughter until the lieutenant returned from Iraq. Melinda Rogers was still in shock over her sister's murder. She rambled around the kitchen, looking lost, trying to answer the questions the two agents had for her.

"Miss Rogers," McGee tried to get the young woman's attention, "did your sister say anything about where she was going yesterday evening?"

Melinda looked at McGee, her expression dazed, and shook her head. "Not much, just that she needed to get out for a while. She's been under a lot of stress, worrying about Wayne, she needed to let some steam off."

"Did she go to bars or clubs frequently?" asked Tony.

Again the young woman shook her head. "No, she's not really the clubbing type, that's more my scene. She really just wanted to go out and listen to some live music, maybe dance a little. She was just going for a few drinks with someone from her office."

"Do you know the name of this person?" McGee asked.

"No, just someone she worked with, you'd have to ask around her office." Melinda's eyes drifted over to the playroom. "When Wendy came home, she seemed so relaxed, like she had had a good time. She said I should stay overnight, but I wanted to get home, I had a running date with a friend the next morning. Maybe if I had stayed here, she'd still be alive." The young woman's eyes filled with tears.

"You don't know that," Tony said, kindly. "You could just as easily have been another victim." He looked toward the playroom. "Do you mind if I talk to your niece?"

Melinda shook her head. "Just don't frighten her, okay? I'm not sure she understands what's going on. I tried to tell her, but how do you tell a little girl that her mommy is never coming home again?"

"I don't know," replied Tony softly. He walked over to the playroom and stopped in the doorway, watching the child sitting at a table, having a tea party with her stuffed animals. Quietly, he entered the room.

Tony crouched down next to the small table, making sure he didn't tower over the little girl.

"Hello," he said softly, "what's your name?"

The little girl looked up shyly, examining his face carefully. Apparently satisfied that this large man was not frightening, she whispered, "Hannah."

Tony smiled. "That's a pretty name," he said. "My name's Tony." The agent looked at the items on the table and asked, "Are you having tea?"

Hannah nodded.

"May I join you?"

Regarding him solemnly, Hannah considered his request, finally nodding her approval. Tony carefully perched on one of the small chairs, his knees sticking up awkwardly. The little girl began pouring imaginary tea into the small china cups. She looked up at her guest and asked, "One lump, or two?"

Tony could barely make out the soft words, his heart breaking at the seriousness of the child. "One, please. Thank you," he said, as she dropped the imaginary sugar cube into his teacup. The young man picked the cup up carefully with his thumb and forefinger, holding his pinky out as any well-bred young person would do. Sipping delicately, he sighed softly. "This tea is wonderful, Hannah. Did you make it yourself?"

Hannah nodded, her red curls bouncing. She sipped some of her 'tea' and looked up at Tony. Her voice was stronger when she asked, "Would you like a cookie?"

"I would," Tony replied. "Thank you very much." Solemnly accepting the cookie she handed him, Tony took a bite. "Mmmm, this is delicious. Did you bake these?"

Hannah's eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. "Mommy made them."

Wincing inwardly at bringing up the memory, Tony said, "Your mommy was a good baker."

Hannah nodded. "I helped," she whispered.

"I bet you're a good helper." The little girl nodded.

She looked up at him and said in a small voice, "My mommy went to heaven."

Tony smiled sadly. "I know, sweetie. I'm very sorry she's not with you. I'm going to find out what happened."

"A bad man made her go to sleep." Hannah's voice was barely audible, Tony had to lean close to hear the words.

"Did you see the bad man?" he asked, his heart beating faster at the nod of her head. "What did he look like?"

"Like you."

A chill ran down Tony's spine. "You mean he was tall, like me?" Hannah nodded. "Did he have dark hair, like me?" Another nod. "Did he say anything? Did he have a loud voice?"

Hannah shook her head. Looking at Tony, she said, "He had mean eyes. Not like you. He was mean looking."

Concerned, Tony asked, "Did he see you?"

Hannah shook her head. "But I could see him. He had lots of teeth, and he laughed."

Feeling the anger rise at the thought of the killer laughing as he murdered the child's mother, Tony paused to collect himself. "What was he wearing, Hannah?" he asked.

The little girl shrugged and started to play with her hair, twirling it. "He had a snake," she offered, softly.

"A snake?"

"Here." Hannah reached out and touched Tony's forearm.

"He had a picture of a snake on his arm?" The little girl nodded.

"Did you see him take your mommy away?"

The little girl nodded. "He carried her to his car."

"What color was his car, Hannah?"

"He had a black Grand Cherokee."

Tony looked surprised. "You know about cars?"

Hannah nodded. "My daddy likes cars. He took me to a car show when he was home and we picked the car we wanted."

"And it was a Grand Cherokee?"

The little girl nodded again. "We were going to go high up in the mountains and sleep outside and watch the stars. Mommy liked to go camping too." Her eyes filled with tears. "Mommy won't go camping with us anymore." She looked up at Tony, her bottom lip quivering. "Do you think she's up in the stars now?"

"I'm sure she is." He stroked the silky red hair. "Thank you, Hannah. Thank you for the tea and the cookie and for talking to me."

Hannah smiled shyly and handed him another cookie. Accepting it with a smile, Tony said, "One for the road, thank you very much." Hannah giggled as Tony struggled to stand up from the awkward position.

Tony put on a hurt expression. "You think that's funny?" The little girl nodded. He laughed. "You're right, it was," he said, giving her a wink. "Enjoy your tea party, Hannah."

McGee was standing in the doorway. "Did you hear that, Probie?"

"Yeah, I did." The two walked back into the kitchen where Hannah's aunt was preparing lunch for her niece. "Thank you, Miss Rogers," Tony said. "We'll be in touch." The young woman barely acknowledged them,

The two agents drove in silence for a while, each one deep in thought. Finally, McGee broke the silence.

"I thought you weren't good with children," said McGee.

"Kids love me," Tony said indignantly.

McGee chuckled. "Maybe it's because you're a big kid yourself."

"Maybe," agreed Tony amiably. "Maybe that's why you're so good with the nerds and geeks."

"Yeah, right, Tony." McGee paused, then continued, "She was cute. I mean the little girl. She looked like her mother."

"Mmm hm," agreed Tony, "she's a sweet little kid."

"She seemed to like you, Tony, or at least trust you."

Tony nodded. "You know me and the ladies," he said lightly.

" She shared her cookies. That's more than I can say for you, though," continued McGee. "You had _two_ cookies."

"Just looking out for your waistline, Probie."

McGee huffed indignantly. The car was quiet again and McGee began to get uncomfortable with Tony's uncharacteristic silence. He tried to get the older agent talking.

"So, have you been to many tea parties, Tony?"

Tony snorted softly, the corner of his mouth quirked upward slightly. "Not exactly. We had a housekeeper once, a very proper British lady. Every day at 4:00, everything stopped and she sat down for a cup of tea and some pastries and little sandwiches. I was usually pestering her or the rest of the staff about something, so she'd make me join her and learn how to behave like a 'young gentleman'."

"She must not have been very successful," replied McGee.

"Funny, McGee, did you learn your social skills at Star Trek conventions?"

"Star Wars, actually," McGee shot back.

"Seriously, Tony," he continued, "you were really good with Hannah. I was kind of surprised."

Tony glanced over at him. "Why surprised?"

McGee shrugged. "I don't know, you didn't hit it off too well with Zach at first. Okay, the two of you got along better later, but you just don't strike me as the kid-loving type."

"I love kids," Tony said softly. "They're honest and they accept you for what you are. You don't have to put on an act to impress them. Usually they'll see right through that anyway."

The rest of the ride was taken in silence.

_**To be continued…**_


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: _Standard disclaimers apply, NCIS is owned by other people, no copyright infringement is intended, no money is being made.

**A/N:** Many thanks go to my beta Rinne, for her patience; ZivaFan and ResearchGeek for their suggestions

**Chapter Four**

Just as Fornell had predicted, the killer called in to brag about his latest success. The call came through to the NCIS main switchboard, the message was recorded on the after-hours voice mail system.

The recording was crisp and clear, there appeared to be no attempt to disguise the voice. "I've grown bored with the pathetic attempts of the FBI to find me," said the man. "I've decided to let another agency take a crack at me. To do that, I've had to kill a young woman in your jurisdiction. I feel a bit sad about this killing. I have a great deal of respect for our armed forces, but a man's got to do what a man's got to do." There was a low chuckle, then the speaker continued. "Let the games begin, NCIS."

"Arrogant son-of-a-bitch, isn't he?" Ziva said.

Gibbs ignored her comment. "Did Abby get a copy of this message?"

"Yes, she's analyzing it now, but until she gets something to compare it to, I don't know what good it's going to do us."

"It's a start." Gibbs picked up the phone to fill Fornell in on the recent events. McGee, Ziva and Tony just stood around.

"What are you three doing?" barked Gibbs. "Get to work!" The three scrambled back to their desks.

* * *

The team was assembled in Abby's lab, while she demonstrated some experimental software she had gotten from a friend. The lab tech had been able to get her hands on the original photo taken by the witness, so Abby was able to work with the source, rather than the file the FBI had sent over. 

"This is really cool stuff," she said, her fingers flying quickly over her keyboard. "The software takes an image, a face, and maps it out, no matter what angle you're looking at. Well, at least if you have a partial view of the face, it can't work with the back of the head, that would be silly." She paused, grinning at Gibbs, who just stared at her, the "And?" unspoken, but obvious in his expression.

"Anyway, it plots out points and extrapolates what the entire face would look like. It's not perfect, of course, because no one's face is perfectly symmetrical, but it can put together a reasonable facsimile of the suspect's facial features."

Ziva looked skeptical. "How will this help us?"

"Well, Ziva," replied Abby, smugly, "we have the video tape from the bar the night Petty Officer Elkins was murdered. I've eliminated all the men who don't fit the general description, and mapped the facial features of all the men who did."

"Did you come up with anything?" asked Gibbs.

"I did, oh Illustrious Leader," she replied. "There were plenty of men with that general description. Petty Officer Elkins talked to two of them, and one," she typed in some quick commands, bringing up a still frame, "comes up as an 80 percent match." She turned and curtsied to the group. Tony applauded softly, causing the young woman to smile and direct a curtsy at him.

"Did any of the others she didn't talk to match the photo?" McGee asked.

"No one else matched any higher than 20 percent, Timmy."

"How are we going to find out who a single stranger is?" asked Ziva.

"Legwork, Officer David," replied Gibbs. "We take the mock-up of the face and show it around to everyone at that bar and the hotel. Good work, Abs."

Abby preened. "Thank you!" she said, sticking her tongue out at Ziva, who replied in kind.

The team went back to the squad room. "How're you doing on the Turner case, DiNozzo?"

"We're making progress, Boss," Tony reported. "It turns out Petty Officer Turner's 4-year-old daughter saw the killer. She wasn't exactly able to give a description, but she did see a tattoo of a snake on the perp's forearm."

"A little girl saw the murder?" Gibbs' asked, frowning.

Tony replied, "I don't think she saw the actual murder, Boss. But she did see a man, and she saw him take her mother out to his car."

"Did you get the color of the car? The size?"

Tony grinned. "I got better than that. It turns out Hannah, that's her name, sweet kid, cute little button nose... anyway, it turns out she knows that particular car. Her father took her to a car show and they picked one out. It was a black Grand Cherokee. Don't have a year, though. The victim's sister said the victim went out drinking with someone from work the night before. McGee and I are going to ask around, see who she went drinking with, maybe find someone with a snake tattooed on their arm."

"Well, what are you two still doing here?"

Tony and McGee scrambled to gather their things. "On our way out now, Boss."

"Good work," Gibbs said to both men. They smiled proudly at each other and headed toward the elevator.

Gibbs rose, taking his gun out of the desk drawer, he checked it and then snapped it into his holster. "Come on, Officer David," he said. "We're going hunting."

* * *

Petty Officer Turner's co-workers were not exactly cooperative when Tony and McGee started asking questions about the victim's work relations. Everyone seemed to be either extremely busy or extremely clueless. Even Tony's charm wasn't working on the women, who engaged in flirtatious repartee, but become ice princesses when the talk came around to the late Petty Officer. 

"Something's hinky," said McGee, after three hours of going around in circles with potential witnesses."

"You got that right, Probie," Tony said thoughtfully. "It's almost as if they've closed ranks."

"But why?"

"I guess that's for us to find out, isn't it?" Tony grinned at the younger man and headed out of the building, waving jauntily to the security guard on his way out.

The two drove back to the petty officer's home, hoping to be able to speak to Melinda Rogers again. They were surprised when Lieutenant Walter Turner answered the door. The lieutenant had not been due back from Iraq for three more days, but he had managed to catch a flight on a returning cargo plane, choosing to travel in the bumpy cargo area rather than wait for a regular flight back home.

The two agents followed the lieutenant into the living room. "We're very sorry for your loss, Lieutenant," Tony said. "We're doing everything in our power to find the man who killed your wife."

"Do you have any leads at all?" the young man asked.

"We're following up on some leads," McGee replied, "but we need to ask you and your sister-in-law some questions about your wife's work environment."

Walter Turner looked haggard, he sported a day's growth of beard and his eyes were bloodshot. "I don't know what I can tell you. Wendy didn't talk much about her job. I know she didn't like it, but you take the assignments you're given, you know?"

"Did she mention having any problems with co-workers?" Tony asked.

The lieutenant thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I really can't remember. I'm sorry, I'm jet-lagged and more than a little stressed-out. I can't think straight. I spent all night holding my little girl while she cried in her sleep."

"I am so sorry, Lieutenant," Tony said sincerely. "I met Hannah, she's a sweet little girl. She may have seen the killer."

"What?" Turner exclaimed in alarm. "She saw the monster?"

Tony tried to calm the man. "She said he didn't see her, and I believe she's right. She wouldn't have been left alive if the killer _had _seen her. Hannah mentioned that the man had a tattoo of a snake on his arm. Can you think of anyone among your friends or acquaintances who might have something like that?"

Turner ran his hands through his hair. "No, I can't think of anyone who has a tattoo of a snake. Anchors, yes; Mother, hell yes; but no snakes."

"Is your sister-in-law here?" asked McGee.

"She's in the kitchen, she and Hannah are making lunch."

Turner led the two agents into the kitchen. Hannah was wearing an oversized towel tied around her waist. She broke out into a huge smile when she saw Tony.

"Hi," she said brightly. "We're making lunch, do you want some?"

Tony smiled at the little girl. "That's very sweet, Hannah, thank you, but I think I'm still full from that delicious tea we had."

The little girl giggled. "That was yesterday!"

"You're right," agreed Tony, "but the tea and the cookies were so good I haven't been hungry since."

"Silly," Hannah giggled.

"Mel," Turner said, "the agents have some more questions for you."

"Did you find the man with the snake?" Hannah asked.

"Why didn't you tell me about the man, baby?" asked her father.

She blinked her large green eyes at him a few times and whispered, "I don't know." Her eyes started to fill with tears.

"Oh honey," Turner rushed to her and picked her up. "It's okay. I just wanted to make sure you weren't frightened. I need you to tell me everything, okay?" Hannah nodded and put her head on her father's shoulder.

"Miss Rogers," Tony said, "did your sister talk to you about her job?"

Melinda shook her head. "No, not that much. She said she didn't really fit in with her co-workers, they had 'differences of opinion', but she never talked about any serious problems."

"Do you know what those differences were about?"

"No," she said apologetically, "I'm sorry, I don't. Wendy wasn't a complainer. She'd mention problems, but she wouldn't dwell or whine about them."

"But she did go out for a drink with someone from work, right?"

Melinda looked startled. "Now that I think of it, I don't know if she actually said that, I just assumed it. I had forgotten about the strained relations at work. Oh my god, I told you the wrong thing! I wasted a whole day of your time."

Tony patted her arm comfortingly. "No you didn't, we needed to talk to her co-workers anyway. They're definitely a close-mouthed group. We just have more than one direction to go in now." He handed her a tissue. "Do you know of anyone with a snake tattoo on their forearm? Anyone who she might have come in contact with, like a repairman?"

"Not that I know of," replied Melinda, sniffling. "I don't think she's had any repairs done lately, she was always pretty handy. Such a tomboy." The young woman smiled at the memory.

Tony closed his notebook. "Thank you for your time. We'll let you know what we come up with." Smiling at the little girl, he said, "It was good to see you again, Hannah." She gave him a shy smile in return.

"We can show ourselves out, enjoy your lunch." Tony shook the lieutenant's hand and tweaked Hannah's nose, who giggled and hid her face in her father's shoulder. "Good afternoon, Miss Rogers." He nodded toward the young woman, who smiled and said, "Good bye," faintly.

In the car, McGee said, "She did waste a day of our time, Tony."

"Well, yeah," Tony agreed, "but it was an honest mistake and she was still reeling from the death of her sister. No point in beating her up about it."

"Yeah, you're right. I guess this means we have a lot more ground to cover."

Tony nodded. "Yup. I still want to know what the deal is with her co-workers. I'm not writing any of them off as suspects yet." McGee nodded in agreement.

"You've got Hannah wrapped around your little finger, or maybe it's the other way around," McGee said nonchalantly.

"Maybe it's a little of both, Probie." Tony grinned at the other man.

McGee chuckled and shook his head. "You and the ladies," he muttered under his breath.

**_To be continued…_**


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: _Standard disclaimers apply, NCIS is owned by other people, no copyright infringement is intended, no money is being made.

**A/N:** Many thanks go to my beta Rinne, for her patience; ZivaFan and ResearchGeek for their suggestions

**Chapter Five**

When Tony and McGee got back to the squad room, Ziva was sitting at her desk muttering curses at her computer. Gibbs was nowhere to be seen.

"How was your expedition to the bar?" asked Tony, stepping back in alarm at the glare directed at him by the irate woman.

"You don't want to know, Tony."

"I don't?"

Her gaze frosty, Ziva bit off her words. "No. You. Do. Not."

"Ooookay." Tony held up his hands in surrender, shrugged at McGee, and sat down at his desk.

Ten minutes later Gibbs strode back to his desk. "Find out anything new, DiNozzo?"

"Well, just that Petty Officer Turner and her co-workers had 'differences of opinion'; about what, we don't know. Yet. And that she probably didn't go out for a drink with a co-worker, her sister was too rattled and just assumed that." Tony looked at McGee and grinned. "And that I have a little girl who keeps trying to feed me."

"You know what they say," said Gibbs, "you can't fool children and dogs."

"Who says that?" asked McGee.

Gibbs looked at him. "Me." McGee looked confused.

Glancing cautiously over at Ziva, Tony said, "So Boss, any luck on your little excursion?"

Just then Gibbs' phone rang.

"Gibbs."

There was a moment of silence, then a male voice said, "My, Special Agent Gibbs, that's a very abrupt way to answer the phone."

"Who is this?" Gibbs demanded. The other three agents watched him curiously.

"I've been reading up on you and your team, Gibbs."

Gibbs signaled McGee to start a trace on his line. Tony stood and walked toward his boss' desk.

"You have, have you?"

"You've got quite a reputation, not only you personally, but your team. You should prove worthy opponents. Not like those incompetent FBI agents."

"I'm not playing a game with you."

The voice chuckled. "Well if you don't play the game, more people get killed. That's not really fair, is it?"

"Why are you playing a game? What's in it for you?"

"The thrill of the hunt, the thrill of being hunted. I guess you could call me an adrenaline junkie. It's your move now, Special Agent Gibbs. You're quite a few steps behind me, but I'll cut you some slack, you just started the game."

"I appreciate that," Gibbs said sarcastically. "How far behind am I?"

"I can't tell you that, that would be cheating."

"I'll cut you some slack."

A full-throated laugh came through the phone. "Excellent, you _are_ going to be a good adversary. I'll be in touch." The line went dead.

"McGee?"

"Not enough time, Boss," McGee apologized. "We did get a recording of the call, though, to match up to other recordings."

"What did he say, Boss?" Tony asked.

"He's treating this like a game. Somehow, he knows all about us. We need to find out if anyone has been hacking into our systems. McGee, check that out."

"Yes, Boss." McGee started typing furiously.

"There's something else, isn't there?" Ziva's sharp gaze met Gibbs' impatient one.

"He says we're a little behind him. I'm not sure what he meant, but I think there might have been another murder that we haven't discovered yet."

* * *

The team spent the next few hours calling hospitals and local law enforcement agencies for any report of an injured or dead Jane Doe, to no avail. There had been three missing person reports concerning young women, two had been located and the status of the third was still unknown.

Late in the evening the squad room was quiet, illuminated by the individual desk lamps and evening lighting. The clicking of keyboards was the only sound in the room.

McGee was deeply engrossed in his task of checking the security system for the NCIS computer network when he heard the sound of coughing. He looked up to see Tony doubled over, his face red from the intensity of the coughs.

"Tony, you okay?" he asked with concern.

Taking a deep breath, Tony nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just swallowed wrong."

McGee looked skeptical. "You sure?"

"I'm sure, McGee," Tony said irritably. "Drop it."

"Okay," McGee put his hands up placatingly. "Don't bite my head off."

Tony frowned and rubbed his temples. "I'm sorry, I'm just tired."

"Headache, DiNozzo?" Tony jumped at the sudden appearance of his boss.

"No, Boss," he replied. "Feeling good."

"You look like crap. How much sleep have you gotten the past few days?"

"I've been sleeping," Tony said defensively.

"Uh huh." Gibbs glared at the younger agent. "You remember what Dr. Pitt said about stress and being susceptible to lung problems."

"I'm fine, Boss, really," protested Tony.

"You are? Then why did you sound like you were coughing up a lung? Go home, get some sleep," Gibbs ordered.

"Boss, I'm just going over the personnel files for Petty Officer Turner and her co-workers. I think I found out what those 'differences of opinion' were."

He stood up and walked over to Gibbs' desk. "Six months ago, Turner filed a harassment complaint against a Lieutenant Andy Griffin... not to be confused with Andy Griffith, of Mayberry fame... and a Petty Officer Stephen Wakefield. Nothing ever came of those charges and according to unofficial notes put in her file for documentation purposes, she's been the victim of malicious jokes ever since."

"They're getting back at her for not being a team player," Gibbs said.

Tony nodded. "I've checked the medical records for everyone, and no one has a snake tattoo listed under distinguishing marks. So unless someone got a tattoo and didn't tell personnel, it looks like the disgruntled co-worker theory has been blown out of the water."

Gibbs nodded. "Check them out anyway, just in case they _didn't_ update their medical records."

"Right, Boss." Tony turned to return to his desk swaying slightly at the sudden movement.

"Go home, Tony. "

"But Boss..."

"Now, DiNozzo."

Grumbling to himself, Tony turned off his computer, gathered his things and headed home.

"McGee, you should get some rest too."

"Boss, I'm running a program to check the systems for hacking, it should be done soon," McGee said. Gibbs nodded and returned to his work.

* * *

Tony opened the door to his apartment wearily. He was glad that Gibbs had ordered him to go home, but would never admit it. Yawning and stretching he walked through the darkened living room toward the kitchen and was hit from behind. He fell to the floor, unconscious.

* * *

An hour later a series of beeps sounded from McGee's computer.

"Boss, you need to see this," called McGee.

"What is it?" Gibbs went to McGee's desk and stood behind the younger agent's chair.

"Someone definitely hacked into the system and accessed our personnel files, including medical, education and service records. And," he looked up at Gibbs, "he has our home addresses and phone numbers."

"Get Ziva and Tony back here. Now."

"On it, Boss."

Gibbs called Ducky and Abby, informing them that he was sending MP's to stand guard over them.

"Boss, Ziva's on her way in, but I can't get hold of Tony."

"Did you try his cell?"

"I tried both his cell and landline. The calls went straight to voicemail." McGee looked worried. "Maybe he's sleeping really deeply? He looked totally wiped out."

"I hope so." Gibbs checked his weapon and put it in his holster. "Tell Ziva to meet us there."

"Um, Boss? She doesn't have a car."

"Tell her to take a cab," Gibbs said in exasperation. "She can expense it. Let's go."

_**To be continued…**_


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: _Standard disclaimers apply, NCIS is owned by other people, no copyright infringement is intended, no money is being made.

**A/N:** Many thanks go to my beta Rinne, for her patience; ZivaFan and ResearchGeek for their suggestions

**Chapter Six**

Tony groaned; his head was throbbing. He reached up to rub his temples, but found he couldn't move his arms.

"What the…"

"Special Agent DiNozzo," a silky voice came out of the darkness. "I'm glad to see you're awake."

Tony squinted to try to make out the figure in the shadows. "Who are you?"

"I'm you, Agent DiNozzo," the man said, "in just a few years, maybe less."

Tony tried to shake the cobwebs from his head. Bad idea, the throbbing got worse, making him feel nauseous.

"What are you talking about?" Tony tried distracting the man, while he surreptitiously worked to loosen his bonds.

"We have a great deal in common, Agent DiNozzo. Poor little rich boys, cold fathers, social-climbing mothers, denied access to our rightful fortune… shall I go on?"

"Please do, this is fascinating. You seem to know so much about me, why don't you tell me something about you."

"You know all about me, you've read the FBI's profile, you've probably come to a few conclusions on your own." The shadow moved further into the darkness.

Tony smiled. "I have my theories."

The man laughed. "I'm sure you do, Tony. Do you mind if I call you Tony?"

Tony shrugged. "If you tell me your name, sure, go ahead."

"Fair trade. It's William."

"Mind if I call you Billy?" Tony asked.

"Whatever floats your boat, Tony."

"So, what do you want… Billy? Why are you here? Better yet, why am I tied up?"

Billy came forward out of the shadows, his face hidden behind a ski mask. "You and I are kindred spirits, Tony. I know you, what you're like inside. You're seething with pent-up resentment and rage. You're angry at the world that won't give you the love and respect you deserve. The love and respect that your parents denied you."

Tony's calm voice disguised his growing unease. "You don't know me."

"Oh, but I do, Tony. All I have to do is scratch the surface and I see myself, three years ago." Billy laughed. "You play a role to make people like you. You're so starved for attention you'll play any role, just to get them to notice you. It doesn't even have to be positive attention, just something to acknowledge that you exist, that you're not just a convenience brought into the world because it was expected of wealthy families. An heir born out of tradition and responsibility rather than love."

"Is that what your childhood was like?" asked Tony, trying to keep his anger down. "Were you just a little show dog, trotted out to perform for the country club members?"

Billy burst into laughter. "Yes, Tony! That's exactly it. We both were, weren't we? Good little sons, doing whatever our parents wanted us to do, hoping that we'd get at least a pat on the head, but learning that the pampered family dog got more love than we did."

"We didn't have a dog," Tony said sarcastically.

"We _are_ alike Tony, whether you want to admit it or not."

"We're nothing alike, Billy. You're a cold-blooded murderer."

Billy moved closer. "You kill in the line of duty. The only difference is, your murder is sanctioned."

"I think you have a twisted view of law enforcement, Billy." Tony continued to work at his bonds, with no success.

"You will too, you'll eventually see what I saw."

Tony squinted at the man. "You were a cop," he said.

Billy threw his head back and laughed. "Excellent! You _are_ good. I was one of those sworn to protect and serve. Until I got smart."

"And now you murder innocent young women."

Billy shook his head. "They all left with me, willingly. Nobody is truly innocent, Tony. Except maybe that sweet little girl. She seemed to be quite taken by you."

Tony's blood ran cold. "You've been following me."

"Ever since I gathered information on your team. I was drawn to your history, the similarities between us," Billy acknowledged. "I followed you before I killed that pretty petty officer, Victoria. I knew that if my victim was in the Navy that your team would be put on the case, especially with the string of murders already under my belt."

"You killed a Petty Officer so my team would start tracking you?"

Billy nodded. "Not just your team, Tony. You."

"What do you want with me?"

"I want to see how alike we are. How far you'll go to stop me. I'm good, Tony, very good. Are you good enough to outsmart me? Are you going to rely on your boss, the mighty Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and step back and defer to him?"

Tony remained silent.

"What if you can get into my head, figure out what I'm going to do," continued Billy, pacing around the room. "If you understand me, my motivations, my plans, wouldn't that make you," he stopped in front of Tony and leaned forward, putting his face inches from the bound man's, "just… like… me?"

Tony surged forward, bringing the chair he was tied to with him. Billy was momentarily stunned by the head butt. Tony struggled to escape his bonds, freeing one hand, but the killer had regained his senses and was immediately on him, striking Tony's face repeatedly. Before Tony began losing consciousness he caught a glimpse of Billy's exposed arm. The tattoo of the snake was the last thing he remembered before everything went black.

* * *

Ziva was just getting out of a cab when Gibbs and McGee screeched to a halt outside of Tony's building. Foregoing the elevator, the three ran up the stairs to Tony's floor, cautiously approaching the door to his apartment. The door was open a crack, revealing the dark foyer. 

Nodding to his two agents, Gibbs kicked the door open and, keeping his body low to the ground and his gun out and ready to fire, rushed into the apartment, followed closely by McGee and Ziva.

A quick sweep of the room revealed no immediate danger, just the sight of Tony lying motionless on the floor, partially tied to a chair. Gibbs sent McGee and Ziva to check the rest of the apartment while he went over to Tony and checked his pulse.

"The rest of the apartment is clear, Boss." McGee turned on a floor lamp as he entered the living room. "Is Tony okay?"

"Yeah, he looks a little banged up." Tony began stirring as Gibbs untied the ropes.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs turned Tony's face toward him, "wake up, DiNozzo."

Tony groaned. "Boss?"

"Yeah, what happened?"

"He was here, Boss." Tony struggled to sit up, but held his head and lay back down. "My head..."

"Lie still, Tony, we're taking you to the ER."

"No, we have to go after him."

Gibbs held the younger agent down. "We will, we just need to make sure he didn't crack that hard head of yours open."

Lying flat, Tony kept his eyes closed as he started to explain what happened. Gibbs listened grimly, eyes narrowing at the news that the first petty officer was killed to bring them into the case.

"He killed Petty Officer Turner, too, Boss," Tony said softly. "He's got a new agenda. He's not just killing young women, he's killing Navy personnel to bait us. To bait me."

"He told you that?" Gibbs asked sharply.

"Pretty much," acknowledged Tony. "He talked about how similar we are, how we come from the same background and that he used to be just like me. He's an ex-cop of some sort. He says I'll be just like him in three years."

"He's playing with your head, DiNozzo," warned Gibbs. "Don't let him get to you."

Tony opened his eyes and looked up at Gibbs, his face distraught. "He knew all about me, Boss. He said things that were so true, I... I don't know, what if he's right?"

"You are not like him, DiNozzo," said Gibbs. "You have a conscience, a sense of justice, and you have a great respect for life."

Tony remained unconvinced.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "Do you mean to tell me that sometimes you feel like killing women you date?"

Startled, Tony opened his eyes. "No!"

Gibbs sighed. "Tony, I don't know what your childhood was like, but I think it's a safe bet to say that you didn't get the support or encouragement that you should have received from your parents. Hell, cutting you off when you were twelve is one sure sign, not to mention disowning you when you became a cop."

Tony nodded.

"You've got a lot of baggage," Gibbs continued, "but I saw something promising when I first met you, that's why I wanted you on my team."

"You did?" Tony asked in surprise.

"I did," confirmed Gibbs. "You've done nothing but improve since you came to NCIS, you must know that. I trust you with my life, and there aren't many people I trust that much. You've proven to me that with support and guidance your natural abilities shine. "

"And an occasional slap to the head?" Tony asked.

Gibbs chuckled. "You all require a little tough love." He turned serious again. "You can let this psycho mess with your head, or you can beat him at his own game. If he knows you, then you know him. He isn't like you, he has no soul. You can beat him, Tony. We'll get him before he kills anyone else."

"Thanks, Boss." Tony closed his eyes wearily, the pain in his head easing a bit. "Oh yeah, he said his name was William. And he had a tattoo of a snake on his right forearm. OW!"

"You couldn't tell me that earlier?"

"What if I have a concussion?"

"Then I guess it's a little worse now, isn't it?"

"Yes, Boss."

McGee came in with the EMT's who checked Tony over. After several minutes of arguing and whining, complete with hopping up and down to prove he was okay, Tony convinced them that he didn't need to go to the Emergency Room. He signed an AMA form, under the disapproving eye of Gibbs, and the EMT's left.

Ziva had gone to talk to the building manager and came back to report that somehow William had convinced him he was an old fraternity brother of Tony's and got the manager to let him into the apartment.

"I'll have to have a talk with Mr. Menendez," muttered Tony.

"Okay, everyone get some rest," Gibbs announced.

"But Boss..."

"No, but's," Gibbs said firmly. "Tony, I'll stay here and wake you up every few hours. McGee, Ziva, you go home. We'll start again early in the morning."

"That's 4 hours, Gibbs," Ziva said.

"You need more than that?"

"No."

"Good. McGee, drive Ziva home. I'll come in to work in the morning with Tony."

Gibbs practically pushed the two out of the door, then turned and ordered Tony to bed.

"What about you, Boss?" Tony asked. "You need sleep too."

"I'll sleep, now get some rest."

Tony shuffled off to bed reluctantly, while Gibbs settled himself on the sofa, setting his internal clock to wake him in an hour to do a concussion check on the younger agent.

**_To be continued…_**


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: _Standard disclaimers apply, NCIS is owned by other people, no copyright infringement is intended, no money is being made.

**A/N:** Many thanks go to my beta Rinne, for her patience; ZivaFan and ResearchGeek for their suggestions

**Chapter Seven**

The next morning the entire team was reassembled and plowing ahead with the two cases that had now become one. McGee and Abby were running checks against various police databases trying to find a face that resembled the mock-up the software program had produced from the profile of the suspected killer, looking for any ex-cop with the first name of William.

McGee, Ziva and Tony were in the squad room talking while Gibbs was in MTAC giving the Director a report.

"So Tony," Ziva said, "did Gibbs sleep with you last night?"

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Why do you ask, _Zeeva_. Jealous?"

"Me? No," she laughed, "I just wanted to know if he tucked you in."

"I've been tucking myself in since I was little," Tony replied. "Gibbs just woke me up every hour."

McGee looked over at Tony. "He was pretty worried about you, Tony."

"It's just the case," explained Tony. "There are aspects to it that hit close to home."

"Why did the killer come to your apartment?" McGee asked.

"I attract many types, Probie," Tony waved him off, "I can't keep them away from me."

Ziva snorted as Tony gave her a cheesy grin.

Gibbs came down the stairs quickly. "Abby has something for us," he said as he breezed through the squad room. The others scrambled to follow him down to the lab.

"What do you have, Abs," Gibbs said.

"I believe I have a match, Gibbs," Abby said excitedly. She turned and typed quickly, bringing up an ID photo. "Meet William Crawford, former Chicago cop, a detective in the homicide division. He left the force three years ago, no unusual circumstances given, he just up and quit."

The man in the photo fit the description, a man in his thirties, dark-haired, with handsome, chiseled features. Tony stared at the photo, his heart beating rapidly. William Crawford _did_ look amazingly like him. It was like looking in a mirror, one of those funhouse mirrors that makes you look older and just a little off-center.

"Crawford is from a very wealthy family living in Bannockburn," continued Abby, "the suburb of Chicago, not the city in Scotland. His parents are both dead, their money went to various charitable organizations with a small amount going to their only son."

"When did they die?" Gibbs asked.

Abby turned to him. "Three years ago, in a car accident."

"The final rejection," murmured Tony.

"What?" Gibbs looked at him curiously.

"They never gave him any love or support growing up. Treated him like a trained show dog in front of their rich friends. When they died, they showed him just how little he meant to them. They probably made sure their pets were provided for, rather than their son." Tony's gaze was thoughtful, staring off into space.

Ziva and McGee looked at Tony curiously.

"Tony?" McGee's voice was tentative. "You okay?"

Tony blinked, then focused on McGee. He gave him a lopsided smile. "Yeah, Probie, I'm fine."

Gibbs spoke up, "We need to find this guy before he kills someone else. Tony," he turned to the senior field agent, "I want you wearing a wire at all times, in case he tries to make contact again."

Tony nodded.

"McGee, see if you can find some sort of electronic trail: bank records, travel records, anything. Ziva, see if your contacts can help us in any way. Let's get this guy."

He started to leave the lab, when Abby called out to him expectantly. "What do you want me to do, Gibbs?" she asked.

"Wire Tony up, then help McGee," he called back over his shoulder.

Abby directed a sharp salute toward Gibbs' retreating back and said, "Yes, sir," sharply.

"Don't call me sir," drifted in faintly from the corridor.

* * *

Ducky had just finished up a report in Autopsy when Gibbs walked in. 

"Jethro, I understand our two cases have melded into one."

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah, the perp confessed to both murders to Tony."

"And how is young Anthony?" the ME inquired.

"That's what I came to talk to you about, Ducky," replied Gibbs. "How did he seem to you when you examined him?"

Ducky looked thoughtful. "Well, he seems a little under the weather, but nothing that some rest won't cure." He cocked his head. "But I suspect you're concerned about his state of mind, yes?"

"This guy's gotten into Tony's head, Duck," confirmed Gibbs, "has him wondering if there's a killer hiding inside him."

"Yes," agreed Ducky. "I spoke to Abby, she's very worried about our young friend. Jethro, you don't think Tony is anything like this killer, do you?"

"Hell no," Gibbs said vehemently, "but it's not what _I_ think, it's what Tony thinks. He sees the similarities in their childhood, bringing up bad memories and all the emotions that go with them, and he's starting to doubt himself. It makes me want to confront his parents and ask them what the hell they were thinking when they raised him."

Ducky nodded sagely. "Yes, it makes you wonder why some people bother to have children. Anyone can procreate, but not everyone is suited for parenthood. Lucky for us Mr. and Mrs. DiNozzo had Anthony, or we would never had had the pleasure of knowing him."

"I don't understand why they would have treated their child so badly," Ducky continued, "From the little that Anthony has said, he'd been neglected from early childhood. It's amazing that he's grown into the exceptional young man that he is."

"Try telling him that," Gibbs replied wryly.

"Yes," Ducky nodded, "his insecurities seem to be coming out full force. Is it affecting his work? Could he be putting himself or the team in danger?"

Gibbs shook his head. "No, he seems to be on his game. He's just quieter, more introspective and serious."

"Ah, the carefree womanizer mask is off. He seems particularly vulnerable to me, in need of reassurance. You should talk to him, Jethro," urged Ducky.

"I have talked to him, Ducky," Gibbs' frustration was evident. "I can tell he wants to believe me, but he can't quite bring himself to do it."

"Years of being beaten down by those that are supposed to support and love you can do so much damage," Ducky said sadly. "He may never see himself as the good man that he is, but we can keep letting him know that _we_ think he is, and show him our support and love. He has great inner strength, Jethro. I've seen people who have been neglected and emotionally abused as children who have turned into the most despicable or pitiful adults. Anthony has a sensitive, loving inner being that peeks out. His choice of career shows that he cares about people."

"The more I think about this, the angrier I get at his parents. They threw away a perfectly wonderful human being, for whatever reason." Ducky shook his head. "Well, their loss is our gain. Instead of a cold-hearted businessman, the world has an excellent law enforcement officer who cares about people."

Gibbs sighed and started to leave Autopsy. "Thanks Duck, I just needed to talk this out."

"Any time, old friend," replied Ducky. "You know I'm here for you and Anthony, and all the others."

"I know." Gibbs smiled and left the room.

* * *

Tony was sitting at his desk, lost in thought. William Crawford's words kept repeating in his head. Tony thought back to his own childhood and its cold existence. Would his parents even care if he got killed in the line of duty? He didn't think so. Oh, they would put on the appropriate display of grief to keep up appearances, but they would shed crocodile tears. 

"DiNozzo." The younger agent jumped at the sound of his boss' voice. He looked up to see Gibbs standing in front of his desk.

"Yes, Boss?"

"Don't dwell, Tony. You're going to start second guessing yourself and that could get you or someone else killed."

"I know, Boss," Tony said apologetically. "I'm trying to see the differences instead of the similarities, but it's hard, you know?"

"I know," Gibbs nodded. "Look, I know I don't give a lot of praise, but you wouldn't be here if I didn't think you were a good agent. You know that, right?"

Tony smiled weakly. "I know that, I really do. It's just that, sometimes I wonder…" His voice trailed off.

"Wonder what?"

"I wonder what would have happened to me if I hadn't joined your team. Would I still be in Baltimore, or would I just be quitting my job at my fourth police department? You've taught me, supported and encouraged me more in these past few years than my parents did my entire life. If I hadn't had that support, I _could_ have turned into what Crawford is."

Gibbs shook his head.

"What do you think might have happened, Boss?"

"Honestly?" Gibbs asked. Tony nodded.

"You would have burned out. You were on your way, in Baltimore. You would have become disillusioned and bitter, but you would have turned that against yourself. You probably would have ended up eating your gun but you would never kill innocent people."

"You know that?" asked Tony.

"I do," Gibbs stated firmly. "It's not in your nature to purposely hurt anyone but yourself. You can be annoying and bug the hell out of McGee, but you'd never seriously say anything to hurt him, or Ziva, or Kate. And you'd never physically harm anyone."

Tony smiled faintly. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Boss. It means a lot to me."

Gibbs smacked Tony on the head, and said, "Get back to work," and headed back to his desk.

* * *

McGee and Abby rushed into the squad room excitedly. 

"Boss…"

"Gibbs…"

"We have something," They both said simultaneously.

McGee picked up the remote and pulled up an image on the plasma screen. It was from a video camera at an ATM. The man getting cash from the machine was definitely William Crawford.

"We found out where Crawford banks and what alias he's using," McGee declared proudly.

"Good work, Probie." Tony slapped the young man on the back. "How'd you manage that?"

Abby said, "I was bored, McGee was so involved in tracking Crawford's movements that I felt like I wasn't doing anything. So I thought I'd play around with the different databases out there, and I remembered how you got a glimpse of the car, with that Lieutenant that got kidnapped, on a video from an ATM, so I thought I'd take a look at a bunch of different tapes." Abby paused to take a breath.

McGee picked up the story, "So she was fast forwarding through hours and hours of tapes and was lucky enough to spot the perp."

Abby nodded. "Damn lucky, but I'll take it."

Gibbs kissed her on the forehead. "So will I, Abs."

Tony leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Abby looked at McGee expectantly, who sighed and kissed her on the other cheek. "I already kissed you," he grumbled good naturedly.

"He's using the name Howard Freeman, Boss," McGee said. "I've checked his banking history and he gets cash from a different ATM every day, but it's always one of his bank's ATMs, and always in the city proper."

"He doesn't want to pay the service fees," Tony commented.

"Who does?" Abby said.

"How many ATMs does the bank have in the city?" Gibbs asked.

"Twelve," McGee replied.

"I want surveillance on all of them," Gibbs ordered.

"On it, Boss."

_**To be continued…**_


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: _Standard disclaimers apply, NCIS is owned by other people, no copyright infringement is intended, no money is being made.

**A/N:** Many thanks go to my beta Rinne, for her patience; ZivaFan and ResearchGeek for their suggestions..

**Chapter Eight**

For the next two days, none of the surveillance teams the FBI and NCIS had on the ATMs spotted Crawford. Gibbs was getting extremely short-tempered and Tony was getting anxious. Crawford hadn't tried to contact him again since the night in Tony's apartment. They were starting to think that Crawford had left town.

Gibbs and Tony were sitting in an ice cream truck in front of a small branch of Crawford's bank. Neither one said anything, frustration building within the two men.

"Stop fidgeting."

"I can't help it, my butt's sore."

"If you don't stop squirming around something else is going to be sore."

Tony tried his best not to move around, reminding Gibbs of a pre-schooler who had to go to the bathroom.

"Want to play 'Twenty Questions'?"

"No."

There was silence for all of two minutes.

"Did you notice that top Ziva was wearing today?"

"Don't you have something to eat, DiNozzo?" Gibbs said irritably "Something to keep your mouth busy?"

"I ate everything" Tony said in a small voice.

"Well shut up and sit still."

"Yes, Boss."

More silence.

"Boss."

"WHAT?"

"I see him."

Gibbs leaned forward, pressing his comlink. "Target has been spotted. Repeat. Target has been spotted. All units, proceed to my location immediately."

He and Tony pulled out their weapons and cautiously approached the man at the ATM. Tony quietly pulled a young mother and her baby out of the way and sent them scurrying across the street. The area was clear.

"William Crawford," Gibbs said loudly, "you're under arrest. Put your hands behind your head and turn around slowly."

Crawford stiffened and stood still.

"I said," repeated Gibbs, "put your hands behind your head and turn around slowly."

Crawford slowly raised his hands and clasped them behind his head. Turning around, his face lit up when he spotted Tony.

"Tony," he said delightedly, "you caught me. Well done!"

Tony smiled humorlessly. "Game's over, Billy. You lose."

Crawford laughed. "How'd you find me?"

"Technology has really advanced since you were in the force, Billy," Tony said. "And we have some of the best tech people in the world."

"Well done." Crawford started to lower his hands.

"Keep your hands behind your head, Billy, you don't want to make my boss mad."

Crawford bowed slightly toward Gibbs. "Ahhh, a pleasure to meet you Special Agent Gibbs."

"The feeling is not mutual."

Crawford laughed.

"Get down on your knees, Crawford," ordered Gibbs, "and cross your ankles."

"No, I don't think so Special Agent Gibbs."

"I'd do what he says, Billy," Tony said.

Crawford turned toward Tony. "Have you thought about what I said, Tony?"

"I have."

"And you've come to the realization that I was right?"

"Tony's not like you, Crawford," Gibbs said

Crawford cocked his head and looked at Gibbs thoughtfully. "It looks like you found a mentor, Tony. Someone who believes in you."

"Yes," Tony said softly.

"You're lucky," Crawford said wistfully. "There's hope for you after all."

In a split second the killer pulled a knife from a sheath in the back of his shirt and hurled it at Tony, catching him in the right shoulder. Gibbs fired three shots, striking Crawford in the chest. The man was dead before he hit the ground.

"Send an ambulance," Gibbs yelled into his comlink. "Officer down." He ran over to where Tony had fallen. The younger agent was sitting up, holding his arm against his chest.

"Lie back, Tony," Gibbs said. "The ambulance is coming." The sound of sirens in the distance confirmed his words.

"Is he dead?" Tony gasped.

"He's dead."

"He was right, Boss."

Gibbs glared at Tony and started to say something.

"I _am_ lucky."

Smiling, Gibbs clasped Tony's good shoulder and said, "Yes. You are."

_**The End**_

**A/N:** I know this is short, it's just the way the story broke up into chapters, and that's just the way the story ended for me. Thanks go out to all who have posted such wonderful reviews. I have more story ideas, and not all of them are damaging to Tony! I'm also close to launching a website with my stories. I plan on additing to some of them, they could use some more detail.


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